


keep count

by MistressEast



Series: After Hours at Leblanc [9]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Body Worship, Bondage, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Gags, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nonverbal Safewords, Overstimulation, Prostate Milking, Safeword Use, Sub Drop, Vibrators, bottom!Goro, mentions of past somnophilia, that thing where you tie your partner up and leave, there's just a lot going on, top!Akira, what is a refractory period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25101745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressEast/pseuds/MistressEast
Summary: At the gentle brush along his shaft, Goro jerks, lifting his head like he can actually look down at Akira and Akira smiles like he can be seen. “Remember what I said?” he asks, wrapping his hand loosely around Goro’s cock. “We’re not stopping until you come dry. So we really should get started.”
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Series: After Hours at Leblanc [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714768
Comments: 18
Kudos: 472





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**Author's Note:**

> >////< what smut series would be complete without some good old-fashioned bondage? i hope you all enjoy this <3

When Akira left the apartment, the sun was still a sliver on the horizon, beaming gold light through the window, but now, as he swings the door shut and steps out of his shoes, the only illumination remaining is the faint glow of the streetlamps. It’s dim, but more than enough to see by and Akira’s eyes quickly adjust to the fuzzy shadows blanketing the room.

“I’m back,” he calls casually, crossing to the desk and retrieving the lighter he just bought from his pocket. The small collection of candles on the desk does a lot to bring the surroundings into sharper focus. “Did you miss me?”

The only response he gets is a muffled whimper from the bed.

“I came back as quickly as I could—” Akira paces leisurely over to the bedside table and lights the candles there as well, “—but it looks like I didn’t beat the sun. Sorry.” Setting the lighter down, he finally turns to face the bed. “Were you worried?”

Goro can’t actually answer around the ball gag in his mouth, but Akira sees his hands, bound together over his head and attached to the bars of the headboard with a length of red nylon rope, curl into fists.

“I guess the darkness doesn’t really bother you, though.” Akira settles on the edge of the bed and reaches out to brush Goro’s bangs aside, revealing more of the wide black blindfold obscuring nearly the entire top half of Goro’s face. The skin between the bands of the gag and the bottom of the blindfold is stained pink and Akira draws his finger over the blush, enjoying the mindless way Goro turns into the contact. “I lit the candles anyway. So you can picture how romantic we look right now.”

Goro shifts weakly against the mattress. His movement is pretty limited, bound to the headboard, legs taped, calves to thighs, and held in position by a spreader bar clamped above both ankles. The bar prevents him from closing his legs and affords Akira a clear view of his ass as it twitches around the ribbed red vibrator Akira worked in before leaving. The toy is off at the moment, simply keeping Goro’s hole stretched obscenely around its girth.

Smiling, Akira trails his hand down Goro’s flushed throat, feeling it bob tremulously beneath his fingers, then traces into the hollows of Goro’s collarbones. Goro pushes into the gentle touch, a soft sound escaping around the gag, but Akira keeps the contact light, ghosting down Goro’s sternum. He can’t resist the urge to brush over a hardened nipple, however, and Goro flinches, the rope over his head going taut as he instinctively tries to bring his arms down.

When Akira skims over Goro’s stomach, the muscles jump, and Akira marvels at how much more sensitive his boyfriend seems like this. Goro is always sensitive in the most addicting ways, but now, immobile, blind, and voiceless, every reaction seems heightened. Of course, Akira can only imagine how Goro feels, trussed-up and helpless like this, completely dependent on the anchor points of Akira’s touch. The thought coils through Akira like lava and sinks straight to his groin.

Akira traces the outline of Goro’s cock where it lays hard and dripping against his stomach and Goro shivers, hips twitching up abortively. “You’re already so wet here,” Akira observes, drawing his fingertip lightly over Goro’s slit and savoring Goro’s muffled squeak. “Did you have fun while I was gone? Alone in the dark?”

Goro turns his head to the side and even by the flickering light of the candles Akira can make out his teeth cutting into the ball gag. It must be frustrating for someone as opinionated and snide as Goro to be silenced like this, and if Akira wasn’t 100% sure he was okay with it, he’d never even think to take away his boyfriend’s voice like this. But they’d talked it over and talked it over and Goro swore he didn’t mind. Still, Akira reaches up and takes Goro’s face in both hands, circling his thumbs into the hinges of Goro’s jaw, right over the bands of the gag.

“Don’t grit,” he reminds Goro softly. “You’ll give yourself a headache.” After a second, he feels Goro’s jaw relax under his fingers and he bends down to reward him with a quick kiss on the nose. “Good boy.” He nuzzles at Goro’s temple, carding his fingers gently through Goro’s hair. “Don’t worry—I’m gonna take care of you.”

Goro breathes out deeply, nudging blindly into the touch.

Now that he’s properly touching his boyfriend, Akira can’t stop, his hands magnetized to the expanse of hot, smooth skin laid out before him. He drags his fingers back down Goro’s neck, then up his bound arms, squeezing lightly around his extended biceps. When he rubs soothingly over the loops of soft rope keeping his wrists together, Goro twists them, showing off how little give there is to the knotwork, and Akira smiles in satisfaction. He’d practiced hard to make sure he could tie them properly, after all.

A pang of heat in his gut reminds Akira that he’s sort of in the middle of something and, with a last comforting pat to Goro’s head, he stands and moves back to the bedside table. At his departure, Goro hums anxiously.

“I’m right here,” Akira assures him, gathering the supplies he left out earlier. “I’m not gonna leave again.” That part of the scene is over. Now it’s all about seeing how many times he can make Goro come.

As he crawls back onto the bed between Goro’s spread legs, he can’t tear his eyes away from the vibrator protruding obscenely from Goro’s ass. The dim light darkens the red to a deep crimson, striking against the white of Goro’s skin and the dusky pinks of his balls and neglected cock. It’s not their largest by far, but it’s not small, and as Akira watches, Goro clenches, causing the rigid toy to jerk and eliciting a low moan.

“Do you like having this in?” Akira asks, setting the other tools aside and shuffling forward as far as he can with the spreader bar in the way. He snakes his hand under the bar to tap the base of the vibrator and Goro twitches. “Just keeping you nice and open?”

Goro shifts restlessly against the sheets.

“I like it,” Akira continues, grasping the base firmly. “I like thinking about you alone in here, full and waiting for me.” He draws the vibrator out, just a bit. The lube he used earlier keeps the slide smooth, despite the way Goro tightens around it. “And you look perfect like this.” A few more inches of ribbed silicon slip free and Goro sucks in a breath. “And you take it so well.”

When nothing but the tapered tip is left stretching the glistening ring of muscle, Akira pauses, sweeping his gaze up Goro’s heaving chest. “I kind of wish I could keep you like this all the time.” Steadily, he pushes the vibrator back inside, past the instinctive clutch of Goro’s walls, and Goro arches off the bed, whimpering. His cock drools more precum onto his stomach, bobbing as his lower body bucks up. Akira grabs Goro by the hip, keeping him pinned to the mattress so that he doesn’t lose his grip on the toy. When Goro’s frantic motions calm, Akira turns the vibrator inside him, earning a deep shudder.

“Remember, you can come whenever you want,” Akira breathes. “You don’t need to wait for permission.”

Goro turns his face into his arm, humming something that, despite being indistinguishable, Akira still knows means _you don’t have to remind me._ A bubble of fondness swells inside him and he channels it into angling the vibrator up as he pulls it out again. Goro squeaks and his legs shake, unable to snap together thanks to the spreader bar and Akira leaning between his knees. On the next thrust, he buries his face harder against his arm.

“I haven’t even turned it on yet.” Akira sets a casual pace, pulling the vibrator almost free before pushing it back in, twisting and shifting it according to Goro’s reactions. He’s determined to make Goro come at least once on the toy while it’s off, but he might need to help things along.

At the gentle brush along his shaft, Goro jerks, lifting his head like he can actually look down at Akira and Akira smiles like he can be seen. “Remember what I said?” he asks, wrapping his hand loosely around Goro’s cock. “We’re not stopping until you come dry. So we really should get started.”

This time, he grinds the vibrator with intention, stroking along Goro’s hot length, and every muscle in Goro’s body seizes up. It only takes a few firm pumps and another solid thrust with the toy before Goro is whining low in his chest, spilling over Akira’s fist.

“Good,” Akira praises, releasing Goro’s twitching cock it leaks a few last drops to join the glistening pool on Goro’s stomach. He reaches for his other supplies and grabs a permanent marker. Popping the cap, he lays one hand on Goro’s right knee and pushes his leg even further open than it already is. As Goro struggles to catch his breath, Akira drags the marker down the delicate skin of his inner thigh, just under the bottom of the black mummification tape. “That’s one.”

Akira replaces the cap and tucks the marker behind his ear for safekeeping. Then he reaches for the vibrator again, still nestled in Goro’s ass, and twists the base firmly, clicking past the first few levels right away. The motor buzzes violently to life and Goro lets out a muffled shriek, hips bucking off the bed. His dick, just starting to soften, hardens before Akira’s eyes as Akira once again pins his boyfriend down.

Within seconds, Goro is coming again, groaning around the gag as his cock releases in thin ropes across his abdomen.

Slumping against the bed, Goro takes a shuddering breath and Akira studiously makes another tally mark beside the first one.

“Two.”

Benevolently, Akira cranks the vibrator down to the lowest setting, a gentle hum that nevertheless makes Goro squirm. His own cock strains against his fly, almost painfully aroused already, but Akira ignores it. He’ll get his turn soon enough.

“How are you doing?” Akira asks, reaching for the package of tissues beside him.

After a second of hard breathing, Goro curls his left hand into a fist and extends one finger.

“Perfect,” Akira says approvingly, wiping away the cum splattered on his boyfriend’s stomach. “Lets see how long it takes you to get hard again.”

Goro moans weakly, arms flexing over his head. Discarding the tissue, Akira rubs soothingly over Goro’s legs, drawing his fingers over the lines where the tape cuts into the skin. They practiced with it a few times, so Akira knows it’s not too tight, but the edges can dig in a little. As Akira scoots forward, his knees hit the spreader bar stretching between Goro’s ankles and he purses his lips.

“I’m going to take the spreader bar off now, okay? It’s in the way.”

Goro huffs noisily and Akira reaches around to give him a playful smack on the flank.

“How do you manage to be sassy with a rubber ball in your mouth?”

The sound that leaves Goro’s mouth is unmistakably an _ugh_.

A little bit of fiddling frees Goro’s ankles and Akira pulls the spreader bar away, depositing it off the side of the bed. He rubs at the light marks left on Goro’s skin by the cuffs, enjoying the even clearer view of his boyfriend’s spread ass. “Beautiful.”

Another unintelligible series of noises bleeds out around the gag and this time Akira is pretty sure he hears a derisive _oh, jesus christ—_

Shaking his head, Akira nudges Goro’s legs as far apart as they’ll go. Since he can read Goro so well, the gag is functionally useless, but he can’t deny the eroticism of Goro’s lips stretched around the dark rubber, how they’re already flushed from the strain and how the gag is already shining with saliva.

“But you are,” Akira continues, drawing the backs of his fingers over Goro’s spent cock as he leans over his boyfriend’s torso, bracing his other hand on the bed. Goro trembles underneath him. “You look so perfect like this.” Lowering his head, Akira noses at Goro’s flushed cheek. “But you always look perfect.”

Goro’s chest rises haltingly as he sucks in a thready breath, and Akira feels his cock give an undeniable twitch.

“You act like you don’t like to hear it—” Akira curls his fingers around Goro’s length and pumps lightly. “But at least this part of you is honest.”

Goro tips his head back, a whine streaming around the gag.

“Like this, I can lavish you with as much praise as I want, and you can’t snap at me or roll your eyes, or—” Akira breaks off on a breathy chuckle, pressing his forehead to Goro’s brow through the leather of the blindfold, “—I guess you can, but I can’t see it.”

The rope above them creaks as Goro tugs at it in obvious frustration.

Smiling, Akira moves down, laying faint kisses along Goro’s jaw, down his neck, all the way to his chest, keeping his hand on Goro’s cock as it slowly but inexorably fills out again. “Your body knows me so well,” he says, pausing over one of Goro’s nipples. “It’s incredible. Every part of you is so smart.” He seals his lips over the dusky nub and flicks his tongue against it.

Goro’s taped legs tighten against Akira’s sides and he bucks into Akira’s mouth, groaning. Akira hums, closing his eyes to savor the clean, salty taste of Goro’s skin as he uses his free hand to pinch Goro’s other nipple.

It takes a bit of work, switching his attention between Goro’s nipples while firmly stroking his dick, but soon Akira feels the spent length in his hand start to stir again, tiredly filling with blood as Goro squirms beneath him. A constant litany of pitchy, choked noises falls from Goro’s blocked mouth, each one gathering hotly at the base of Akira’s spine, and Akira has to keep resisting the urge to take himself out. Soon, he assures himself.

“This is a little like when I fucked you in your sleep.” Akira pulls back enough to regard his boyfriend, running his hand roughly up Goro’s cock. Goro is panting shrilly, head lolled to the side, sweat shining on his skin. The moisture catches the candlelight with each uneven rise and fall of his chest, making his whole body glimmer fitfully. “I can actually take my time and enjoy you.”

Goro hisses weakly.

“Of course, I always enjoy you.” Akira flicks Goro’s swollen, abused nipple and smirks at the sluggish jolt he gets in response. “But you never let me take my time. So bossy, so demanding—” he cuts off on a laugh as Goro’s knee thumps agitatedly against his side. “And somehow you still are.” Without releasing Goro’s cock, he grabs Goro’s taped leg and shoves, forcing his foot off the bed. “Next time—” he breathes, watching Goro’s muscles flex, adjusting to the new position, “—I’ll tie you up doggy-style so you can’t kick me.”

Huffing, Goro rolls his hips into Akira’s grip.

“Though, I’m sure you’d find some way to be bratty anyway.” Swaying forward, Akira ducks down to speak directly into Goro’s red ear. “Maybe I just have to knock you out again. You’re only well-behaved when you’re asleep.”

Twisted awkwardly by Akira’s hand still pinning his knee to his chest and unable to extend his legs to compensate, Goro can only shudder helplessly, his dick growing undeniably harder at the words.

“Do you like when I tell you what a brat you are?” Akira bears Goro harder into the mattress, stroking more vigorously. “I know you rile me up on purpose—you want me to snap, don’t you?” Giving into temptation, Akira grinds the bulge of his erection against Goro’s ass, digging into the hard edge of the vibrator, and they both moan loudly. “It probably—drives you crazy when I’m patient with you, hm?” Akira pants into Goro’s hair. “You really want to be punished.”

Goro mewls raggedly, writhing in Akira’s grasp.

“You get annoyed when I call you beautiful because you _really_ want me to call you filthy.”

When Goro tries to hide his face against his arm, Akira sits up and grabs him by the jaw, keeping his head still as he grinds again. The low vibration of the toy feels heavenly against his straining cock. Freed, Goro’s leg tips sideways, his toes curling.

“You _really_ want to hear about what a slut you are.” For emphasis, Akira squeezes Goro’s shaft, too hard to be pleasurable, and Goro’s hips buck up as a muffled shriek tears out of his throat. “The perfect, professional former child star Goro Akechi can’t come without a dick in his ass.”

Saliva is running in rivulets around the edges of the gag, dampening Akira’s fingers where he’s grabbing Goro’s jaw.

“Look at you—” Akira coos, shaking Goro’s face roughly. “Drooling for it. You’ve already come twice and you’re still so desperate.”

Goro lets out a cracked sob, chest shuddering.

“What would people think—” Akira muses, pressing his thumb right under the head of Goro’s cock and enjoying the way the muscles in Goro’s stomach leap, “—if they knew that the brilliant Detective Prince begs a criminal to fuck him every night.”

The headboard creaks as Goro yanks on the rope, spine arching. Blowing out a deep breath, Akira fights down the heat pulsing through his limbs and rocks against Goro again, jostling the vibrator and drawing out a faint whimper.

“Do you want to come?” Akira growls.

Goro inhales shallowly and nods as best he can with his face held in Akira’s hand.

“Then go ahead.”

As though waiting for the permission, Goro falls apart beneath him, muscles tense and shaking, breath caught in his lungs. His taped legs press against Akira’s sides and Akira can feel the pull of the tendons in his inner thighs as they try to snap closed. A few weak strings of cum paint Goro’s trembling abdomen and his cock pulses feebly in Akira’s hand.

When Akira releases Goro’s face, his head falls to the side, a faint moan sounding behind the gag.

“Good boy.” Distantly, Akira thinks he should say something about how depraved it is that Goro got off on his insults, but the sight of Goro’s flushed, quivering body and the little hitched sounds filling the room sweep all thoughts of dirty talk out of Akira’s head, leaving only stabbing desire and a fierce affection. “You’re doing so well,” he murmurs, moving both hands to pet soothingly down Goro’s sides. “So sweet and perfect for me.” And beneath it all, never forgotten, is a warm undercurrent of gratitude. This is all for Akira’s sake after all.

Sliding the marker out from behind his ear, Akira proudly adds a third tally to Goro’s thigh before sticking the marker back where it came from.

Goro struggles to pull in a deep breath, his ribs prominent under his skin as his chest expands, and Akira notices that the convulsive tremors of his muscles aren’t easing as his climax ebbs. The shivers vibrate through Akira from every point of contact and he frowns.

“How are you doing?”

Another quake wracks Goro’s frame and he swallows, throat working hard to account for the position of his jaw. After a hesitant second, he fists his left hand and extends two fingers.

“Okay—” Akira instantly slips his hand down to switch the vibrator off completely. “Do you want me to take this out?”

A short head shake has him leaving the toy where it is, and he moves his hands to Goro’s knees. “Do you want me to free your legs?”

Again, Goro shakes his head no.

“Do you want me to adjust anything?”

_No._

“Is it okay if I keep touching you?”

When Goro signals yes, Akira leans over to place a kiss on his crown, nuzzling into his hair for a brief second. “Okay, take a quick break and kick me when you’re ready to go again.”

Goro nods again and Akira pulls back with a smile.

While Goro catches his breath, Akira once again cleans the spend on his stomach, keeping his touch gentle and carefully avoiding Goro’s overstimulated cock, then he busies his hands kneading tenderly at the taut muscles surrounding Goro’s pelvis. He stays between Goro’s legs, keeping his warmth close, and rubs up Goro’s arms, smoothing his fingers as best he can over Goro’s shoulders and down the back of his neck. His boyfriend will definitely be sore after this, but hopefully they can head off the worst of it.

Slowly, Goro’s shivering subsides and his breathing evens out, his tense frame relaxing under Akira’s hands. Honestly, Akira is grateful for the break too; the persistent ache in his groin settles down enough to think around, no longer gnawing at him to just give in and fuck Goro’s lights out. As nice as that might be, he wants to milk this opportunity as much as possible.

After a couple of minutes, when Goro’s breaths are coming easily again, Akira feels Goro’s knee knock against his shoulder, and a pleased smile quirks his lips.

“Ready to start again?”

Goro holds up one finger and Akira’s smile grows.

“Perfect.”

Two tally marks later, Goro is writhing desperately in his restraints, jolting away from Akira’s touch, overstimulated likely to the point of pain if the feeble cries falling from his mouth are any indication. Akira just tightens his grip around Goro’s taped leg and spears his fingers deeper, pressing all three against the general area of Goro’s sweet spot as he swallows deliberately around Goro’s length.

Goro gives an exhausted groan and Akira once again feels the distinctive tightening of his muscles, walls fluttering around his fingers, stomach quivering against Akira’s forehead. He seems to sink into climax this time; it’s much less an explosion and more a sluggish surrender, and Akira never tastes the usual rush of bitter fluid even as Goro’s body pulses with release.

As Goro collapses against the mattress, Akira pulls off his dick with a wet pop and sits up, keeping his fingers buried in Goro’s heat.

“Good boy,” he purrs, reaching up to card through Goro’s sweaty hair. “You’re doing so well, so perfect—” stroking down Goro’s face, Akira drags his fingers through the drool dripping past the gag and smears it over Goro’s chin, down his flushed neck, before leaning over and biting at Goro’s sharp collarbone.

Goro squirms tiredly, whimpering.

“Just a little longer,” Akira says against Goro’s burning skin. “We’re almost done. And I think you can give me one more.” Under his mouth, Goro’s chest hitches, and he drops a quick row of kisses down his boyfriend’s sternum, deviating to press his lips purposefully to the round scar near his heart. “I know you can do it. You’ve been so good for me so far—and I really want you to come on my cock.”

A muffled grunt accompanies the distinct pillowy thud of Goro thumping his head back against the mattress. Even nearly incoherent with overstimulation, Goro can’t help but sass him.

Akira smirks as he straightens up, situating himself more firmly between Goro’s legs, and draws his fingers out of Goro’s ass. His abused rim gapes in the absence and Goro shudders.

“Shh—” After marking the sixth tally on Goro’s thigh, Akira makes quick work of his fly with one hand, and with the other he snags the now severely-depleted lube bottle. “I know, honey. Just hang tight—you’ll be full again in a minute.”

Finally, _finally_ , Akira tugs his erection free, letting out a sigh of relief as the pressure against the aching flesh lifts somewhat. Part of the fun was denying himself any sort of relief during the process, focusing entirely on his helpless boyfriend, but now he’s almost _too_ sensitive, wincing just at the cautious touch of his own hand. Biting his lip, he grasps the base of his shaft and slicks lube along the length. The warm, wet slide is almost too much, and Akira can feel his patience fraying by the second.

Tossing the lube aside, Akira hooks one hand around Goro’s hip and lines himself up, prodding the blunt, shining tip of his cock against the soft ring of Goro’s entrance.

“Here—I’ve got what you need, Goro—”

In one smooth, steady push, Akira slides all the way inside, and he nearly loses it at the welcoming give of Goro’s ass. He’s so loose and warm from the toys and Akira’s fingers that there’s almost no resistance as Akira buries himself to the hilt.

“Oh—god—” he curses, bracing one hand on the bed beside Goro’s chest as his muscles spasm, heat crashing through his veins. The pleasure peaks so suddenly that Akira screws his eyes shut against it, breathing in sharply to center himself. Below him, Goro barely reacts beyond a fine tremor as Akira hits home, and when Akira blinks his eyes open again, he drinks in the sight of his boyfriend stretched out on the bed.

He’s been looking at it all night, but something about it feels different now that he’s finally inside of Goro. The skin of Goro’s face, neck, and shoulders is blushed a deep pink that gradates out as it creeps down his chest and up his arms, giving way to smooth, creamy skin, glittering and dewey in the candlelight. The cage of his ribs expands shallowly as Akira sweeps his hungry gaze across it, lingering on each rise and divot visible through the delicate flesh. Trailing his eyes up his boyfriend’s bound arms, Akira appreciates the contrast of the intricately woven red rope. Goro’s hands are lax—no restless twitching or grabbing, too worn out—and still pale, which means the restraints aren’t trapping blood in his fingers, and once again Akira feels satisfaction zing through him.

Traveling down Goro’s body, Akira runs his hands over the angles of his taped legs, enjoying how easily they part as he pushes up and out, splaying Goro’s lax frame even more. Like this, Goro’s feet can’t even reach the bed, held open and vulnerable, completely at Akira’s mercy.

The thought shoots a stabbing spike of heat straight to Akira’s dick.

Biting his bottom lip hard, Akira rocks back slowly, tortuously, scraping every inch of his throbbing length against Goro’s silky walls. When he pushes back inside, Goro flutters slightly around him, too worn out to give much reaction, but Akira spies the telltale contraction of his stomach muscles as he angles deliberately toward Goro’s sweet spot.

A weak groan vibrates Goro’s chest when Akira hits home again and Akira feels his self-control snap. Grabbing Goro’s waist, Akira drags him up to meet his next thrust, jolting another hitched sound from behind the gag, but Goro can’t resist as Akira sets a desperate pace, his lax body completely helpless while Akira uses him.

“ _Fuck_ —Goro, I—” Some part of Akira’s frenzied mind wants to keep talking to his boyfriend, reassure him how amazing he is, how beautiful he looks, and it feels imperative that Goro know just how much Akira loves him—loves him like this, handing over his trust and freedom freely, and loves him every single second of every day—and how grateful he is to have Goro by his side, and how lost he’d be without him—and a million other impossibly fervent emotions that are swirling together in his chest. But the words won’t form, lost in the frantic roaring of the pulse in his ears, and all Akira can do is put every drop of his longing and trust and gratitude into the animalistic snap of his hips.

The pool of feverish arousal he’s been feeding all evening spreads quickly throughout his body, until his fingertips are buzzing, sweat beading on his hairline, sparks dancing behind his eyes when he squeezes them shut and tips his head back, mouth hanging open around a gutteral shout. Even loose and soft, the friction of Goro’s ass is exquisite, swallowing Akira’s cock hungrily, and the heat is blinding, compounding with every thrust.

But as Akira drops his head down again, the stark black lines on Goro’s pale inner thigh catch his eyes and hold them, reminding him of what he _really_ wants. Swallowing the scorching pleasure trying to consume him, Akira slams all the way inside and grinds deliberately, eliciting a faint mewl from his nearly insensate boyfriend. Goro’s cock lies soft and overtaxed on his stomach, and Akira knows there’s no way he can get it completely hard again, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make Goro come one last time.

Grasping that one thread of rationality, Akira summons the final slivers of his focus and aims his strokes upward. He’s rewarded with a low keen and Goro attempting to tighten his shaking legs around his waist.

“Good—boy—” Akira pants, sweeping his thumbs over the thin skin spanning Goro’s hip bones. “Come on—I know you can come again—”

Goro’s chest hitches, breaths coming quick and shallow, and he jerks against the sheets with every sharp shove of Akira’s hips.

Figuring he’s going to need a little more help, Akira unclenches one hand from Goro’s waist and slides it up his trembling ribs, sparing a moment to tug on each of his reddened nipples, before fitting his fingers around Goro’s flushed throat.

The effect is immediate; Goro seizes around him, sucking in a labored gasp, and Akira grits his teeth, schooling the pounding tension in his gut away from the edge. When Akira squeezes gently, keeping the pressure on the sides of Goro’s neck to restrict blood flow, he’s gratified by the bowing of Goro’s spine. Goro tosses his head to the side, a low whine falling from behind the gag before Akira presses deliberately against his trachea, just enough to choke the noise. The way Goro’s walls flutter around him rips a snarled curse from his mouth and his abdomen contracts with the pleasure sparking through his nerves. This can’t go on much longer, he realizes hazily.

Securing one arm around his boyfriend, Akira bends forward, shifting his rhythm into something short and staccato as he plasters himself to Goro’s front. This position forces Goro’s entire lower body off the bed to compensate for the restriction of his legs, but Akira keeps him occupied by varying the pressure on his throat, cutting off his breathing before releasing and allowing him to gulp in air randomly. Within seconds, Goro is practically sobbing, stilted and interrupted, muscles spasming.

Akira presses his forehead to Goro’s temple, panting hotly. The searing grip of Goro’s body pulses around his cock, chasing him faster and faster, until the pleasure in his gut slams his hips flush to Goro’s ass, as close as possible, and Akira can’t stop the overflow.

Dimly, he can feel Goro convulsing beneath him, the distinctive rippling of his body, and he has just enough presence of mind to ease his grip on Goro’s throat before the scalding torrent drowns everything out.

The violent release pitches Akira over a ledge into brainless, floating weightlessness, and for a suspended, timeless instant, there’s nothing but the burn.

He comes back to himself with his face buried in Goro’s hair.

Beneath him, his boyfriend is completely limp, each shallow breath cracking feebly at the edges, and Akira pushes himself up on tingling arms to give his chest more room to expand.

“Good boy,” Akira slurs. “You did so well—I’m so proud of you—” At some point the marker was dislodged from his ear, and Akira gropes through the sheets until he feels his numb fingers close around it. “I’m so lucky—” he’s not sure if Goro can even hear him, but he has to finish the scene before freeing him, so— “That’s a new record,” he breathes, marking a seventh tally on Goro’s thigh. “You’re incredible.”

That done, Akira takes a couple of beats to center himself, running a hand through his sweaty hair and shuddering through the last wisps of his climax. He listens attentively to Goro’s uneven breathing, alert for anything out of the ordinary, but soon his boyfriend seems to regain a bit of control, his breaths coming more deeply. Only then does Akira carefully pull out, hissing at the filthy slide of his cock out of Goro’s abused hole and the lewd way Goro’s rim gapes as he slips free, glistening with lube and Akira’s own cum. Listless sparks of heat crawl up Akira’s spine but he ignores them, tucking himself away with a wince and shaking off the desire to just curl into his boyfriend’s warmth and revel in the afterglow. That can come later.

“I’m going to take the gag off,” Akira informs Goro, easing himself out from between Goro’s legs to perch beside him on the bed. The only indication Akira gets that Goro is even aware that he spoke is the slight twitch of his fingers.

Delicately, Akira works his hands under Goro’s head and releases the buckle on the gag with practiced movements. No matter how extreme the rest of their set-up might be, if Goro is wearing a gag, that always comes off first. Strings of saliva stretch between Goro’s lips and the soaked leather ball as Akira pulls the gag away and Akira quickly sets it aside, his fingers returning to Goro’s face and rubbing soothingly at the hinges of his jaw to help him close his mouth properly. After spending so long straining those muscles, it can be painful to relax them, and Goro huffs softly as his teeth meet in his mouth.

“Good,” Akira praises. “I know it’s hard, but don’t try to talk yet.”

Seeing that Goro still has the energy to stick his tongue out at him makes Akira smile.

“Now the blindfold.”

The flexible leather slips over the top of Goro’s head, leaving his hair even messier than before, and Goro wisely keeps his eyes closed at first. Bowled over by a sudden rush of affection, Akira places two light kisses on Goro’s eyelids.

“Sap,” Goro rasps.

“No talking.”

According to the list they worked out beforehand, Goro’s legs are next, and Akira turns to focus on them. “I’m going to start on your legs. Let me know if something hurts.”

The mummification tape is designed to stick to itself but not the skin, but the unraveling can sometimes pinch, so Akira is careful as he unwinds the loops of shiny PVC. Before long, he’s helping Goro extend his left leg to lie flat on the bed, kneading at the tense muscles. He deposits the tape in the trash and starts on Goro’s right leg.

When both legs are free, Akira finds his attention momentarily waylaid by the stark collection of lines on Goro’s inner thigh. Reverently, Akira traces one fingertip over the seven black marks before patting Goro’s knee and moving back to Goro’s upper body. He’ll give his boyfriend a full massage before they go to sleep, but for now he has to finish freeing him.

There are scissors on the bedside table in case of an emergency, but Akira doesn’t reach for them. He wants to save this rope, so he gets to work loosening the knots holding Goro’s wrists together, and as soon as the loops are slack enough, he pushes the tangle up and out of the way.

Akira is gentle as he guides first one arm, then the other, down to rest at Goro’s sides, and he rotates the joints gingerly, mindful of how long they’ve been twisted in one position. Goro knows better than to try to help, lying still and obedient while Akira fusses. Even more than Goro needs the attention, Akira needs to provide it.

Once Goro is completely released, Akira flicks the bedside lamp on, replacing the intimate, flickering firelight with a more even golden glow. “You can open your eyes if you want.”

Humming, Goro blinks his eyes open, and Akira’s stomach swoops as that familiar whiskey gaze lands on him. A light tap against his hand prompts Akira to weave their fingers together, meeting Goro’s stare with misty eyes.

“Happy birthday,” Goro whispers raggedly.

A breathless laugh punches out of Akira’s chest. He brings Goro’s hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back. “Thank you,” he says against Goro’s skin. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Leaning over, Akira catches Goro’s mouth in a soft kiss, conscientious of how sore his lips get after using the gag. “You always give the best presents,” he murmurs.

“I know.”

“Okay—” Akira pulls back. “Come on—let’s get you up.”

With an arm around Goro’s back, Akira helps his boyfriend sit up. Goro lists to the side to keep his weight off of his ass, and Akira supports him, reaching for the water bottle he left on the bedside table.

“Careful,” he coaches, steadying the bottle in Goro’s shaking grip.

Goro takes a few long sips, swallowing with some effort, and when he lowers the bottle, Akira sets it aside for later. Hydration is vital, especially after a scene that involved as much sweat and drool as this one. Speaking of—

“Here—” Akira snags a few tissues and dabs at Goro’s chin, where some saliva is still wet and shining. The dried saliva and tear tracks will come off in the bath. “Wait here. I’m going to go check on the bathtub.”

Goro huffs his acceptance and lets Akira guide him down to lie on his side.

Akira quickly snuffs the candles out and hurries to the bathroom. Earlier, he took a guess at how long the scene would take and programmed the bath to start filling when he thought they would be wrapping up. Now, he’s pleased to find that he was right; the bathwater is still hot but not boiling, and it fizzes pleasantly as he tips a handful of aromatic bath salts into it.

When he returns to his boyfriend, Goro is blinking dazedly at the faint red marks on his wrists.

“Do you think you can walk, or do you need a ride?” Akira asks, crouching beside the bed.

“Oh, I know you want to carry me.” Goro reaches for him, still shaking slightly, and Akira complies only too happily, scooping his arms under Goro’s knees and back.

Goro relaxes into his hold as Akira makes his way across the loft to the bathroom.

“It’s hot,” Akira warns before letting his boyfriend's legs down over the tub.

Goro sighs, allowing the rest of his body to slide into the water up to his shoulders. Akira kneels beside the tub and sweeps Goro’s disordered fringe out of his red-rimmed eyes, letting his touch linger on the line of Goro’s jaw. Humming, Goro leans into the touch, visibly unwinding.

“Is it okay if I go clean up?” Akira requests permission, not wanting to leave if Goro needs him.

“Go ahead,” Goro mumbles. His voice is still raw and whispery, but it doesn’t sound worse than it does after other scenes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Smiling, Akira drops a kiss on Goro’s crown and stands.

In the main room, Akira tidies up their supplies (setting the toys aside for cleaning) and strips the bed. A clatter against the hardwood floor draws his attention to the marker, rolling away after apparently falling out of the bundle of fabric. With a fond smile, Akira retrieves it and lays it on the bedside table.

He quickly fits the mattress with fresh sheets before tossing the old ones in the laundry. The clothes he’s wearing soon follow and he lays out pajamas for both himself and Goro. After a cursory wipe-down to get rid of most of the oil and sweat on his skin, he rejoins Goro in the bathroom.

Drowsily, Goro makes room for him in the tub and Akira settles in behind him, cradling Goro against his chest.

“Do you feel okay? Does anything hurt more than usual?”

“I’m fine,” Goro responds, resting his head in the curve of Akira’s shoulder. “I’m trying to have an afterglow, so _shh_.”

“Yes, sir.”

For a few moments, the only sound in the bathroom is the gentle splashing echo of Akira trailing his hand through the water, slowly working his wet fingers through Goro’s tangled hair. Inexorably, Goro sinks against him, surrendering his full weight as the warmth of the water permeates their tired muscles. The bath salts fill the narrow room with a soothing herbal scent, something Goro picked out that relaxes him, and Akira can’t deny that it’s effective, replacing the anxious hyperfocus in his head with quiet images of nature.

Of course, nothing comforts him like taking care of his prickly boyfriend.

“Okay,” Goro says after he’s had enough coddling, stirring and sending ripples through the water. “Help me get the cum out of my ass.”

After the less savory bathing aspects are completed to Goro’s satisfaction, Akira switches off the shower head and helps his boyfriend step out of the tub. Goro is still unsteady on his feet, but when Akira lets go, he reaches his arms over his head and stretches with a long, breathy purr.

“You seem pleased,” Akira observes, draping a towel over Goro’s head and dabbing at his wet hair.

“I feel like I just got hit by a truck.”

“A sexy truck?”

“A truck that certainly thinks it's sexy.”

Swaying forward, Akira pecks Goro on his taciturn mouth. “Maybe the truck thinks _you’re_ so sexy it just can’t contain itself. That’s why all it wanted for its birthday was to hit you.”

Despite his unimpressed expression, Goro loops his arms around Akira’s neck. “I’m flattered.”

The making out isn’t part of the aftercare schedule, but Goro’s not complaining and Akira is nothing if not adaptive.

Before finishing up in the bathroom, Akira sits Goro on the edge of the tub and massages arnica salve into his shoulders and legs, trying to stave off the worst of the muscle soreness they both know is coming. Some aloe is all that’s needed on Goro’s wrists and ankles, and Akira sweeps some across Goro’s throat for good measure. The breathplay wasn’t super intense this time, but Akira can still make out a faint red band starting to form on Goro’s neck.

In the bedroom, Akira helps Goro get dressed before quickly throwing on his own clothes and pulling the chabudai into the center of the floor.

“Sit tight,” he says, plopping a thick cushion beside the table and retrieving the water bottle from the bedside table. “I’m going to go get the cake.”

Goro accepts the water bottle and gingerly lowers himself onto the cushion with only minimal eye rolling, tucking his legs to the side.

Akira hurries down to the kitchen. It’s late, true, but it’s also his birthday and if he wants cake past midnight, that’s well within his rights. Okay, technically his birthday was yesterday, but that’s just pedantic quibbling. Besides, Goro needs sugar. After placing two pieces on a tray, Akira takes a second to chug a glass of water, refills it, then carries the whole thing upstairs.

“Ann won’t be happy we’re eating the last two pieces,” he says, nudging the door open with his foot. “She texted to say she’s coming over in the morning and I know she—” he breaks off, freezing in his tracks.

Goro is still at the table, but instead of tapping his fingers impatiently or dozing off, he’s turned around on the cushion, staring rigidly at something on the bedside table. Akira follows his gaze and catches sight of the permanent marker, lying where he left it.

“Okay—” Akira moves carefully into the room, setting the tray on the chabudai. “Sorry, I should have put it away—” Creeping around his boyfriend, Akira snags the marker and quickly conceals it in his sweatpants pocket before kneeling down. “Come here.”

Goro doesn’t resist as Akira tugs him into his lap. Cross-legged on the cushion, Akira cradles Goro sideways against his chest, tucking Goro’s head under his chin. Thanks to their similar statures, he can’t envelope his boyfriend the way he’d like; if he could, he’d swallow Goro completely with his body, blocking out the rest of the world. But even that wouldn’t protect Goro from his own mind.

“I’m right here,” Akira murmurs into Goro’s damp hair. “I’ve got you.”

Goro makes a noise low in his throat, but Akira shushes him.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything. We can just sit here as long as you need.”

Goro’s frame trembles in Akira’s grip, his muscles tense and stiff all over again, and Akira can feel his breaths coming quick and strained. He knows that if he ducked down, he’d be met by blank, glassy eyes. But Goro allows himself to be held, so Akira presses him close and tries to transfer as much warmth between them as possible.

When Akira crashes, it’s like he bleeds emotions, like whatever he’s feeling is rupturing beyond his control and seeping out, usually directly onto his patient boyfriend, but when Goro goes under, he turns inward. And Akira wishes he could reach into Goro’s head and pull out whatever is stealing him away. However, Goro assures him that just being there is enough.

“When I told Chihaya my birthday was coming up, she insisted on doing a horoscope reading,” Akira starts softly, stroking his thumb over Goro’s shoulder. “I don’t think those are a thing, but she really wanted to do it. She knows I’m seeing someone but she doesn’t know who and I was curious to see if she’d figure it out.” Akira can’t help smiling at the memory of Chihaya peering shrewdly down at her cards before declaring that there’s a strong Gemini influence in his life at the moment. “She’s...pretty sharp. As usual.”

Akira keeps his voice quiet, meticulously going through what Chihaya told him as, slowly but surely, Goro’s shaking fades and he sinks against Akira. When his breathing deepens and Akira can feel him actively leaning into the embrace, he trails off in favor of placing a firm kiss on the top of Goro’s head.

“Back with me?”

“Ugh.” Sluggishly, Goro raises a hand and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for.” Now that Goro is coherent again, Akira scolds himself for leaving the marker out. He’d noticed the way Goro avoided looking at the tally marks in the bath; he should have been more careful. “Do you...want to talk about it?”

“I—” Goro sucks in a shuddering breath, stirring in Akira’s arms. “I just—it surprised me.”

Akira lets Goro sit up in his lap, leaving his arms in a loose circle around Goro’s waist. “Which part?”

Goro’s profile is pensive, brows drawn together. “The counting. How I felt about it.”

“We don’t have to do it again.”

“No, I liked it, it was just...new.” He shakes his head, lips thin. “I can’t explain exactly how it made me feel, but whatever it was, I wasn’t expecting it.” Glancing to the side, he fixes Akira with clear crimson eyes. “But we should definitely do it again.”

Akira quirks a smile. “Yes, sir. How about some cake?”

“Before that—” Seeking fingers fumble for Akira’s pocket, and he flinches at the ticklish touch, before Goro locates the marker and pulls it out, cutting Akira a sly look. “It’s only fair.”

A laugh bubbles out of Akira’s mouth. “Feel free.”

Goro pops the cap off the marker and hooks one finger in Akira’s collar to pull it aside, exposing part of his chest. Lips pursed in concentration, Goro drags the marker down the skin right over Akira’s thrumming heart, drawing one solid black line. “I definitely won,” he declares, releasing Akira’s shirt to replace the marker lid.

Absently, Akira lays his hand over the concealed tally mark. “I’ll beat you next time,” he promises softly.

“Sure you will.” Tossing the marker aside, Goro twists in Akira’s lap to reach for the tray and pull it closer. “Maybe next year, my present will be tying _you_ up and making you come _eight_ times.”

Perhaps it’s just his sex-dazed brain, or Goro’s weight in his lap interfering with his perception, or the promise of spending his next birthday together, but as he eats midnight cake with his boyfriend, deliberately getting frosting on his nose so that Goro will swipe it off with an indulgent eye-roll, Akira swears the mark under his shirt is burning.

**Author's Note:**

> my work should never be viewed as a manual on BDSM, but i do try to represent BDSM's core tenets of consent and respect in each piece. if you're going to learn anything from reading my stuff, i hope it's that communication and respect are the foundation of ANY kind of relationship. the fact that so many of you are connecting with my work and the effort i put into these details genuinely makes me cry. thank you so much for your support.
> 
> when do YOU think Akira's birthday is? i hc him as a cancer so this fic is actually pretty timely lol
> 
> i'm more than willing to answer questions or just chat on my [tumblr](https://mistresseast.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/MistressEast)!


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